The Fallen
by Swooping Evil
Summary: The ones that love us never really leave us.
1. Chapter 1

**The Fallen**

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Hello, just another short story in memory of Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Colin Creevey, Lavender Brown and all the other fallen fifty of Hogwarts.

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The trees swayed in the light breeze on the 16th of May, the brightest and sunniest day of the month, contrasting with the sorrow and grief, which lay over the mass of people like a blanket.

Hundreds of witches, wizards, half-giants and many more were gathered on this warm day to pay tribute to those who had payed the most terrible price during the Battle of Hogwarts.

The Dark Lord, the most feared person in the wizarding world, had fallen and yet the feeling of victory was not shared by many. Lord Voldemort had left destruction, grief and anger in his wake drowning the feeling of triumph and success, which should have been the dominant emotion.

The many people gathered included children, adults, aunts, uncles, grandparents and teachers all of whom had lost someone dear and precious to them by the hands of Voldemort and his followers. On the 16th of May however, they all stood beneath the newly rebuilt Hogwarts, which had been severely damaged during the fighting, ready to give the fallen a proper farewell.

It was with great sadness that Minerva McGonagall weaved her way through the crowd thinking of faces she would never lay her eyes on again. People whom she had taught, _her_ students who were brave, clever, ambitious and kind, too young to die. Her heart gave a painful throb as she past the Weasley family, always smiling apart from this one time. She spotted George Weasley who was surrounded by his family however, the distant look in his eye proved to Minerva that he was far far away, alone and solitary, grieving over the loss of his twin brother.

As she neared the front of the crowd, she could just about see the podium upon which she would have to stand and deliver a speech to commemorate the dead. She continued her way through the crowd until she finally reached the front where already many of her colleagues were already standing. She gave a small nod of the head as she passed her fellow workers and her breath caught in her chest as she saw the missing spot where Pomona should have been. She had just been to visit her at St. Mungo's that very morning even though it made no difference as Pomona still hadn't awoken yet, nevertheless Minerva still went everyday in hopes of Pomona waking up whilst she was visiting.

Minerva was not a woman who people described as shy or timid however, the older witch trembled ever so slightly as he walked up the wooden steps of the podium and looked out onto the Hogwarts grounds covered with what seemed like hundreds of witches and wizards who had come to pay their respects.

The tentacles of the Giant Squid could be seen waving above the water level of the Black Lake and the small breeze had picked up speed making the tree branches sway. Minerva cleared her throat and in an instant all eyes were on her. Then her voice, amplified by the sonorous charm, cut through the rustling of the leaves.

"We are gathered here today to pay tribute to the fallen that have fought bravely and courageously to defend, protect and avenge what is theirs, what they love and whom they love. May it be friends, best friends, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers… they will always be with us, always remembered and always celebrated as those who have changed our lives, our world and the lives of future generations. As a friend once said, the ones that love us never really leave us. Today, tomorrow, the day after and the many days after that we will always remember the fallen fifty of Hogwarts."


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again, I decided to post another chapter however, I do not think I will be continuing this story anymore. I am now in exam season so I am not sure if I will be posting any new stories however, I might do because I am too obsessed over the Harry Potter books. :)

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'We are gathered here today to pay tribute to the fallen that have fought bravely and courageously to defend, protect and avenge what is theirs, what they love and whom they love. May it be friends, best friends, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers… they will always be with us, always remembered and always celebrated as those who have changed our lives, our world and the lives of future generations. As a friend once said, it is the ones that love us that never really leave us. Today, tomorrow, the day after and the many days after that we will always remember the fallen fifty of Hogwarts.'

As Professor McGonagall finished speaking a soft tune could be heard in the background. It was a soul-touching, heart-warming song and Minerva looked up to briefly see a flash of gold and red streak the clear blue sky. She smiled slightly as the image of Albus's faithful bird Fawkes danced in her mind. And as the sudden emotions of nostalgia, sadness and grief powered through her, Minerva ignited her wand with a dazzling white light and pointed it into the action was joined by many and she felt the corner of her mouth twitch as she saw the tip of a pink umbrella join what seemed like thousands upon thousands of wands, dancing in the air.

Feeling the lightest she had felt in a long time Minerva descended the steps of the podium and followed the crowd up the small hill leading up to the castle. She had never remembered the path being quite so steep as she climbed up, huffing and puffing slightly, falling behind the many younger witches and wizards.

"Hello Professor" said a voice to the left of Minerva.

"Good afternoon Mr. Potter" replied the older witch with a slight nod of the head.

For the past few weeks after the Battle, her former student had come everyday to the castle to help with the reparations of the castle. For that reason Minerva McGonagall had had a lot of time to discuss with him the details of Albus's theory, the truth of where Severus Snape's loyalties lay and the many other details she had missed or hadn't been told during the past few years. It was true that she felt quite reproachful towards her friend and previous Transfiguration professor for keeping her in the dark. However, she knew deep down that Albus was right for not telling her all of his theories.

The new headmistress of Hogwarts and the young boy walked together, silently up towards the castle doors. Harry slowed down his pace, which was much appreciated by Minerva who, at that precise moment in time, realised how old she was getting. She had taught generations upon generations of witches and wizards, she was there when Voldemort first rose to power, she was there for his first defeat and then his reappearance only a few years after. She had lost friends, family, best friends and her dear husband Elphinstone who had stayed and supported her until the very end of his life. And yet here she was still at Hogwarts, always there for students in need.

"Well this is it. I guess I'll be off then. I would love to come back next year, to Hogwarts I mean, but…" said Harry whose voice had broken the silence.

Minerva jumped out of her reverie and looked around her. She realised that he had walked her all the way back up to the castle gates and had stopped to say his goodbyes. She looked up into his brilliant green eyes and saw the face of his mother, young Lily with a fiery temper and a good heart. Minerva gave one of her small and some would say, uncharacteristic smiles however, those who were close to her knew otherwise. He then turned on his heels and she watched him walk away, through the castle gates which had and will always stay open for him to welcome him home.

"Mr. Potter, do come to visit when you have the time" the words were out of her mouth before she had even thought about it properly and yet once spoken she realised that she did want to talk to him more. She wanted to talk to the boy who had saved the wizarding world, to the boy who had suffered so much, to the boy who had the black wild hair like his father and the brilliant green eyes of his mother.

Harry turned around and smiled. He then yelled his reply in such a loud voice that if he had still been her student he would have most likely lost a few house points. She watched him getting smaller in the distance until she could no longer see him and, turning around to face the one place she could call home, Minerva entered with a new spring in her step and a new feeling of hope and strength. What was it that Albus used to tell her? Real strength is not just a condition of one's muscle but a tenderness in one's spirit.


End file.
